


Saving the Past

by SilenceLeaflin



Category: Resident Evil (Movieverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 04:30:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14036214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceLeaflin/pseuds/SilenceLeaflin
Summary: This is a tiny Carlos x Alice one shot Resident Evil headcanon of mine that explains the meaning behind what Carlos said to Alice before he sacrificed himself, namely the phrase, "Save it." It was inspired by the song All of This Past by Sarah Bettens, a longstanding "theme" song of mine for Alice. When I listen to it, I think of Alice going to a place in her mind where she keeps the people she's lost. Going to that place is both painful and therapeutic for her.





	Saving the Past

It was a cool night in the desert during a crescent moon, with the only light coming from a meager, flickering fire nearby. The others had long since retired to their vehicles or tents for the night, but Carlos and Alice were still out by the fire, lying on a scratchy, fraying blanket in each other's arms. They had taken second watch, having chosen during first watch to make love instead of sleep. It was an entirely acceptable sacrifice, both felt. Sleep could always happen during third watch, after all.

Lying on his back, Carlos watched the flames dance in the light winds as Alice lay against him, doing the same. They'd been quiet for some time now, verbally at least. Carlos' mind was always working on something, reminding him of things he needed to do or pondering the various outcomes of plans he'd been considering of late. No matter how hard he tried to quiet his mind, it was no use. And he was on watch while the others slept, so his eyes and ears were always open. Turning his head, his lips grazed the top of Alice's affectionately. Was she as restless as he was right now, despite that they both found comfort in each other's arms just a couple hours before? He guessed so.

"Where are you?" he whispered, his lips against her hair.

She didn't move or answer for a moment, and Carlos thought she might not at all. That was alright. She was entitled to her secrecy. But soon enough she tilted her head up, her chin resting on his chest. There was a furrow of sadness in her brown and her eyes were glassy. "With them," she whispered.

"Them?" he asked.

She nodded. "Rain… Matt… Kaplan… One…" she whispered, her voice raspy from the dry desert air but deep from emotion. "I have to remember them. I have to remember their  _faces…_  and their  _words…_  and why they died."

"Are you afraid you're going to forget?" Carlos asked, with a tone that suggested that was an impossibility.

Alice gave no reply.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" he asked.

"I  _have_  to," she said with conviction. "I  _owe_  it to them, even if it's easier to just  _forget_. I can't let myself do that. I don't  _want_  to. I can't take the easy road when they're dead now because of me." Her voice broke and her eyes flooded just then, and so she laid her head back down so he wouldn't see her cry.

Carlos sighed. He knew this was about guilt. Being with him earlier had made her happy. It had relaxed her and reminded her of what was good in life still, even despite all that had happened. And now she felt she had to punish herself for that escape, in a way. It may or may not have been deliberate on her part, but it was a manifestation not only of losing those she cared about but also feeling somewhat responsible for Umbrella's evils. It was a form of survivor's guilt, and he understood it well enough. Hell, he felt partially responsible too, having been an Umbrella soldier himself, but he felt like she was falling into an unhealthy pattern of living too much in the past. Beating herself up over what was already said and done was not constructive, and it didn't accomplish what she really wanted to do, the way Carlos saw it. "Alice… I don't think they would've wanted you to torture yourself like this."

"They can't want  _anything_  anymore. Outside of my mind they no longer exist, thanks to me," she said bitterly. A hard lump rose in her throat and her eyes flooded with tears, even though her expression remained unchanging as stone as the firelight danced in her rarely blinking eyes. Carlos was the only one she could share these dark and self-defeating thoughts with. She felt safe with him in a way she did with no one else. It was not a physical safety, but rather an emotional kind that, from time to time, she desperately needed to bask in with him.

She didn't usually talk like this. Carlos had not even really expected a response to his question earlier, but since she was talking, he thought he may as well encourage her, offer her some advice. She might not take it, but sometimes just hearing someone else's opinion on something you've mulled over and pushed around in your mind alone so many times helped to shed new light on it. Perhaps he could get her to see things from a different angle.

"Then ask yourself…" Carlos said, "are you remembering them because you cared for them and want to keep them close to your heart and their memories alive, or do you do it to punish  _yourself?_ "

She looked up at him again, conflict and pain in her eyes. It flashed only for a moment, and then her expression went back to showing nothing. Carlos could see her pain still there, though, lingering in the depths of her eyes.

"The reason I'm asking is because…  _I_  want to remember the people I've lost in the best light possible. How can I do that if I am constantly associating their memory with my own survivor's guilt?" Carlos asked.

"It's not just survivor's guilt, Carlos," Alice said firmly. "They're dead  _because_  of me. Because I didn't do enough to stop this. Or didn't do it fast enough. Or…" She trailed off, shaking her head before laying her cheek on his chest once more.

"Would they see things the same way?" he asked.

"They  _should_ ," she said through slightly gritted teeth.

"So now you're telling the  _dead_ what to  _think?_ " Carlos asked in an animated fashion, the makings of a grin just starting in the corners of his mouth.

Alice suddenly chuckled, unable to resist his humor, however morbid it might be. But her bottom lip began to tremble and she looked lost once again. She looked up again, her chin resting on his chest once more. Carlos was the only one she'd ever show  _that_ face too. She didn't open up to anyone else the way she did to him. She  _couldn't_.

"I think you need to separate your guilt from your memories of them. Hang on to the guilt if you won't let anyone talk you out of it, but store it in a different place. Keep a place just for them. A positive one, a safe one, for the good things about them. Good moments you shared.  _Only the good_. Don't let anything negative into that place. You take the good, and you  _save_  it… not for a time when you want to beat yourself up about the past, but for when you want to visit everyone you've lost. In here," he said with a smile, touching his fingertip to her forehead.

Alice stared at him for a moment, pondering what he'd said quite seriously. Smiling slightly and shaking her head in amazement, she wondered how Carlos always knew how to make everything better, to sort out the mess of thoughts and emotions she called a mind and mold it into something functional again. "Save it, huh?" she asked.

"Mm-hmm. In this place you're going to keep for them. But give your guilt an eviction notice. Move it somewhere else." he said. "Otherwise years from now, all you'll be remembering is a collection of memories clouded and poisoned by your own pain. You're not going to forget them, Alice. You're  _not_. I  _know_  you. You will never forget  _anyone_  you've lost. There's no danger of that at all. All you need is a safe place to visit them. Not every night, or even every week. Save it… for when you're well enough. For when you're not under immediate duress, or utterly exhausted, or badly wounded. None of them would ever have wanted to be responsible for Umbrella or the infected or anyone else getting the better of you because you wore yourself down by living in the past. Just save it all in a safe place, to be tapped when you want to remember the good things."

What he said made a lot of sense to Alice. It was her last beautiful space in her heart, the memories of the fallen. Aside from her love for Carlos, that is. She was souring it by always being so angry and sad when she thought of them. What justice was that for them? In a way, she was wronging them twice. First by being the reason they died, and then by turning their memory into something negative, something that was painful to her. She should look forward to her reminiscences. They should comfort her, not tear her down.

"Okay," she said. "I'll save it. Somewhere special. Protected."

"Yeah?" he asked. Had she actually taken his advice for once? He couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah," she said, nodding and smiling quite genuinely.

He liked the expression on her face now. It was a relieved one, of the sort that happened rarely and only when he'd managed to sort something out for her. Every now and then, as intelligent and capable as Alice was, she needed some spring cleaning performed on her brain. He was always happy when he could help iron out the wrinkles in her thoughts.

"I'd like to make a reservation, if I may," he said with a loving smile.

"What?" she asked, shocked and staring at him with wide eyes.

"For when I die," he said, as easily as he'd ever said anything. "I'd like to reserve a spot in your special protected place. That's the only afterlife for me."

The strong, confident smile on his face…. The way he had no problem suggesting that he'd not only die, but die  _before her…_  they made Alice's eyes flood again as the vulnerability returned to her expression. She nodded, her brow furrowing with conviction. "You don't need a reservation. The door will always be open for you. I promise."

* * * * * *

She'd followed Carlos' suggestion, even after she made the heartbreaking decision to leave him and others to protect them from Umbrella after Angie's death. Many a night was spent under a desert moon just like the one they'd made love under the time he helped her safeguard the best memories of those she cared for, keeping them safe from harm. Safe from her own guilt, bitterness, coldness… Oh, her heart had grown so cold without Carlos' careful tending. Seeing him again in the Nevada desert had breathed new life into her… only to have it ripped away by a single infected bite.

Alice hung back as the others said their goodbyes to Carlos. She waited by the truck that would become his coffin, trying to think of something to say. Her mind could barely process what was happening, however, for it was happening so fast… and to the one person she had loved the most in this world. She just got him back, and now fate was tearing them apart, this time forever.  _I must be cursed,_ Alice thought as Carlos walked up to the door of the truck and smiled at her. It was a confident smile, a fearless one, and even though the T-virus was slowly killing him and he would be dead long before it did anyway if his plan worked as they discussed, he still looked at her with love in his eyes. She wanted to tell him how noble she thought what he was about to do really was. She wanted to say she loved him. She wanted to thank him… for all those long talks they shared over the last few years. But all those sentiments caught in her throat, unable to move around the hard lump that had yet again taken up residence there.

"Carlos… I…" Alice struggled, but he interrupted her.

"Save it," he said, knowing she would remember that night.

She smiled softly, nodding and leaving it at that.

* * * * * *

The battle with a mutated Dr. Isaacs had left her battered, aching, and so thoroughly tired she could barely think. After getting her clones as situated as she could manage in her current state, Alice then retreated to a different part of the facility, where soldiers and live-in personnel had once stayed. After a half-assed shower, she wrapped a towel around herself and wandered to the dorms, finding a bed. Sitting down on it with a wince, she was quiet for a long while, her mind frozen with all that had happened that day. Soon enough, though, she was doing what she came here to do… and it was not sleep.

"I did it, Carlos. Just as I promised," she whispered, her voice raspy and weak. She felt a little stupid for speaking out loud to a dead man, but not stupid enough to stop. "Now it's time to keep my  _other_ promise to you."

She lay down on the bed and closed her eyes, but still did not sleep. Slowly and carefully, she ran through all the memories she'd made with Carlos in her mind, remembering from the time they'd met in Raccoon City right up to kissing him beside the truck and smiling at him on the road before he went to meet his doom. Solidifying these happy memories and committing them as new volumes in the library of the fallen, Alice let everything hit her. She laughed, she cried, her fists balled as they clutched the bed sheets… She wanted to make sure he found his way into that place, that he was  _saved_ , and so she took her time and allowed herself to feel  _everything_. She would guide him there… and there he would stay until she breathed her last breath.

When she was finished, she was as exhausted emotionally as she had already been physically. Curling up and clutching a fist to her heart, Alice almost thought for a moment that she could feel him with her. It was enough comfort for her to sleep, and when she woke the next day, her resolve and strength for continuing the fight against Umbrella were restored.

Alice visited Carlos as often as she pleased as the years rolled on, along with all the others she'd lost, when time and circumstance permitted. They were all safe inside a sanctuary of Carlos' making. It was a place that would eventually hold Becky, Jill, Luther, Leon, Ada, and all others who would enter her life only to leave it too soon. Carrying these memories with her did not weigh her down, not the way Carlos helped her to do it. Instead it fortified her, kept her strong and focused on not only  _what_  she intended to do to Umbrella, but  _why_ …

…and for  _whom_.


End file.
